Disguised As Your Friends
by Mileena
Summary: Wow...this one is weird...basically Johnny goes on a road trip with someone, has alot of weird thoughts and comes back and has some fun. Reference to Devi, standing characters: Johnny and Jimmy. If I rated it, probably pg or something because theres nothi


A/N: Uh...Hi...Mileena here...Well...it's been a while since I posted anything, I think my last few stories were either USE ME or the Bear one, either one; my god those are horrible...  
  
I don't own any of the characters, HED PE, Soul Asylum or any other music references. Erm, I hope you enjoy it, be sure to read the ending End Note deal...it will probably explain alot.  
  
Dear Die-ary  
  
The moon glows in the star filled sky...and those eight words are the beginning of so many stories. Cliched as it sounds, this how it really does start, well, it didn't necessarily start like that, but it started when I was born, well you get the idea.   
  
But tonight, the writing starts like this...the stars and the moon. How did the celestial sky become incorperated with the goths?   
  
I sat here in this motel room, with roaches skittering by and faint moans coming from the walls, and I watched the colored tv with HBO on it, the bible on the nightstand...  
  
Why is there a bible on the nightstand? Especially when theres a hooker on every street corner around here. Are they just going to come in one night, be sitting astride someone and then let their gaze drift to it and feel guilty?  
  
Why am I even bothering with this?  
  
My window is open, and I am cold but I don't really care about that. I want to go home, back to 777 but the place is too far away from me now.  
  
I left. Originally for my little holiday, but after the sleep research, I never went back to my car...I just kept walking. My hair has grown back and I walk along the sidewalk in the same clothes, every now and then I come across a cheap motel such as this.   
  
I never do sleep in here, I fear too much of the roaches eating away my earlobes.   
  
Some charge by the hour, some charge by the night...I never do pay. Motel doors are easy to kick in.   
  
I do amuse myself by playing with the phone and calling random numbers, then hang up when the people get agitated that no one is speaking on the other end, or if I light-heartedly make a threat to them and they scream obscenities at me.  
  
Humans are so funny.  
  
I don't know what I'm doing, or why I'm doing it. I don't know why I didn't go home, and I don't know why I haven't gone back.   
  
This pen keeps fucking up.   
  
I haven't killed anyone in a while, but I have seen blood, and I have marvelled at his killing speed.  
  
He's in the shower right now.  
  
Oh, have I forgot to mention him?  
  
Jimmy. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Oh joy, another Mmy/Nny slash fic...good going...but thats not the way it is.  
  
I was, oh, an hour or so out of town and I came onto a little street and he was standing there under a lamp-post smoking a cigarette, and yes, there was something a little sultry about it, but nothing that would make me turn to him for mad humpage.  
  
I guess you could say I'm a-sexual...I have no desire to be with women or men.   
  
I'm not into the whole masturbation thing either.  
  
But he was standing there, smoking, and he looked up at the stars, as we all do, and was singing a song. I didn't know it because it happened to be a newer song, and we all know what I like.   
  
I don't listen to classical completely, but I do love the classic rock as well, ah you know; Black Sabbath, old Metallica, Blue Oyster Cult, you know those bands? 60,70s rock?  
  
Of course you do.  
  
His voice was amazingly beautiful for what he looks like. I asked him what he was doing, it startled him and he drew his knife and had me up against a wall in seconds.  
  
I was not scared, because I knew I wasn't going to die.  
  
And if Jimmy does have an odd affection for me; if he loves me like its depicted in so many places, maybe it was that love that stopped him from killing me.  
  
I have this pang of guilt that I cannot return the favor, and I almost feel like I am using him.  
  
He keeps good company, and he is a most excellent killer, but he does kill for all the wrong reasons.   
  
He begs for me to teach him, but I tell him I simply cannot, and he takes this silently, though I'm sure he hates me for saying that.   
  
Jimmy has had a weird life. It's average, and some of the stuff he told me, I envied.  
  
He always did have a family there for him, it's just in the end, he abandoned them. He was telling me about some of the holidays the other night, and how the family was generally happy and not the fake materialistic happy.  
  
He told me he graduated high school, and took a few classes in later education. He isnt as stupid as I first guessed.  
  
Well, he can be.  
  
He walks out now, and looks at me strangely, I can feel his eyes even though my back is turned, staring up at the moon and the stars.  
  
Dear Die-ary  
  
We've stolen a car. He has a pile of cd's in his bag, and now he is screaming along to this song....I don't know...Hed Pe or something like that, I don't mind it so much, because I am sitting in the passenger seat looking at the quickly passing coastline. I have told him that I want to see the world, and he said he'd give anything for me to.   
  
I know we are somewhere on the east coast, though I'm not sure where, the signs go by way too quickly...  
  
His face is so lovely, he looks like a child who just received the greatest ice ceram cone in the world.  
  
I have a brainfreezy.  
  
I cant call Jimmy Mmy, Darkness or Jimmy, they all seem so weird and unfitting. Jimmy seems childish, and well, sometimes he is, Mmy...I loathe because it does seem rather of a copy cat fashion. Darkness....well, lets not get into this..  
  
Dark Guy...heh.  
  
I'd prefer if we would listen to Moonspell rather than these hed guys, they seem to scream alot about southern california.  
  
I wonder if we will make it there.  
  
I don't think I have slept in a while. Maybe I should have stayed at the Clinic place, but I was getting so very bored and needed to get out.   
  
I saw her before I left...  
  
Overlooking the cliff with a girl, watching a smouldering part of town. I wondered why she had returned there, but her and that hyper girl seemed to be happy, so I figured it wasnt reliving faded memories.  
  
Faded memories.  
  
The wind causes my hair to actually sway to a point where I complain like a little preppy girl. Jimmy laughs at me, turning down the screaming hed people. He is talking to me about gas, and I just suggest a new car, he gives me a sly look but shakes his head...  
  
Don't want to be causing too many problems on our tour.  
  
I have found that my search for being emotionless is going slow, but not a complete loss. I tend to think of things at random...like the whole hooker bible thing.  
  
I also want to know why little kids who claim to be goth and dark get angry at Hot Topic. It's called HOT TOPIC, if the title itself suggests that it follows trends, if you dislike the store stay out of it no-one's forcing a gun to your head to enter it.  
  
Not yet anyway.  
  
Now it's too stuffy in here.   
  
The emotionless search is going horrible.  
  
Didnt NIN say something that theres a beauty of being numb?   
  
Soul Asylum?  
  
For such a tough sounding name, they don't sound like what I expected them to.. huh..  
  
Dear Die-ary  
  
I haven't had many kills lately, and Jimmy seems a bit frantic about something. I hate my hair.   
  
It's red.  
  
It's kind of a long story, really. Jimmy ushered me into that Hot Topic store, and now I see why it is so revolting. He got some dye for his hair because it was turning blond again, and secretly he picked up red..and dyed my head when I had fallen asleep from exhaustion.  
  
I wanted to kill him, but he's been so nice lately, such a friend.   
  
I dont remember having a friend as loyal as this kid.  
  
My hair is red, though, and that doesnt please me.   
  
Somewhere down the road I lost my mixed tapes...and I do believe that was his doing. He was screaming to those Hed people again. He wanted to go see some local show.   
  
Diary  
  
I dont know whats been happening of late, but I get this happy feeling alot now. Heading into a town makes me smile, hearing the Hed people make me smile.   
  
Los Angeles made me smile.   
  
It was beautiful, if it werent for the smog.  
  
My hair is black again, it's been a while since I wrote in this Diary..  
  
Yes...Diary.  
  
I haven't seen anyone else's blood in a while.  
  
I seen mine last night as his fingers raked down my arms.   
  
We were arguing, over stupid stuff, and the finger raking is his way of saying "fine I quit"  
  
it was weird to me at first, but I got used to it.  
  
He is completely in love with me, I think. I find it greatly adorable, and he is my bestest bestest friend.   
  
We are heading home as we speak. I dont know what going to happen when I get there.   
  
That local show was pretty cool. There were so many people there, and the bands were interesting...they were not screaming about southern california and how your friends backstab you.  
  
Jimmy asked if I would ever hurt him.  
  
I told him no.  
  
It feels like I have been sleeping for ages, and for once its been a good sleep, with no disorientation upon waking up.  
  
I have been sleeping alot more, my skin is a little more healthy looking...I'm not so skinny anymore, my clothes actually fit rather than hang off me like a skeleton.  
  
He's listening to Tool right now, he always knows what mood I am in, and he plays the music. Tool is my sort of peaceful settling down music...I dont know why...  
  
I discovered a beautiful tattoo on his shoulder blade the other night...it's a small heart, maybe and inch or two across and four inches in length. It's skinny, and checkered on the inside, with little horns and the end of the heart looks like it was ripped from something's inside, bloody entrails and stuff.  
  
His heart disturbs me when I just sit there and stare at it, but I quickly get over it. I saw a lot of people with heart tattoos in Minnesota, all weird and broken looking.  
  
A guy, who lived in St. Paul; he was at a Lacuna Coil show, he had this amazingly beautiful done heart on the back of his neck, freshly done too.  
  
It was a little big, but it looked like someone had ripped the heart up, and was being sewn together with shoe-laces. He looked like he was in a wreck too, not a car wreck, but emotionally...Jimmy spared his life when he bumped into him.  
  
I keep feeling peoples auras...and sometimes it hurts.  
  
Home is 7 hours away.  
  
Dear Die-ary  
  
I let myself drift into the strangest state of mind back there. I felt care-free and happy, and...normal.  
  
Jimmy is suspended from my ceiling, hooks in his knees, shoulders, wrists, and ankles. His eyes look at me with this slightly pained look.  
  
I can't look at them, even if he is dead. I used him...I used him in the worst way possible.  
  
Emotionally as a stepping stone.  
  
And I loved every moment of it.   
  
I smell the rain, even from down here in the basement, and it smells so lovely against the dirty pavement. I want to go out and play in it, but I getting things ready; its spring cleaning.   
  
I plan on burning some of the excess bodies that wont fit into my yard. It will create an oh so lovely smell, I am sure.  
  
Jimmy is like a sacrifice.   
  
A sacrifice to gods that don't exist.   
  
He told me that he did, in fact, love me in all possible ways; emotionally, physically and unconditionally.  
  
Unconditionally scared me for a brief second. It stopped me almost.   
  
The heart tattoo seems to stare at me...it looks like it should be some sort of reminder, some sort of trophy.   
  
*  
  
I got up on a step ladder with a carving knife, ready to peel away his oily skin to dig into the flesh and pull off the work of art.   
  
I became startled...as I read the tiny words around it..I hadn't noticed them from far away, but little lyrics encircled the heart and in the white checkers...  
  
"I dont know how you can live such a lie to yourself, now i know who you are  
  
I can forgive, but I'll never forget  
  
how you put a price on my head  
  
so little i can say and less that i can do  
  
to make you understand all that you put me through theres got to be a better way....."  
  
Done by the head people...but...god...I didnt know what to think...the whole song is about knowing how your friends will easily stab you in the back.  
  
I hit his body with a bat like it was a pinata, how dare he try to make me feel guilty. Such an ignorant kid Jimmy was.   
  
And I wasted my time on him; I devoted energy to him.  
  
But I smile now, because his body is bruised, beaten, torn and dead. Hooks clinging blood flowing, that tattooed skin being nailed to a wall among the photos and posters.  
  
I stare into the glass shards of the mirror and smile my smile, a smile that remembers back when I was paranoid about the damn chihuahua was following me, the feral smile after the wacky incident...  
  
the smile as I was seeking to immortalize the moment.  
  
Have I become just as bad as the people I set out to kill? Have I become such a walking contridiction that I use people this easy as the rest of them?  
  
Using them for all they are worth..  
  
This sacrificial body above me, dripping with blood like some distorted evil pinata, is he the first of many? Or the first and the last?  
  
My gaze wanders over the pictures, and when it falls upon a couple.   
  
I am blacked out in the picture, and Devi is having a big shit-eating grin on her face, the Dragon Book's logo on the glass behind us.   
  
I can't help myself but laugh...if its from being slap-happy, or someone elses blood has gone to my mind, but the picture and the idea amuses me.  
  
Dear Die-ary,   
  
I think I will pay a visit to Miss Devi D.  
  
-Nny   
  
3:07am   
  
Anywho: This story is kinda weird...I was just reading some fanfic on my other computer (I collect a million pieces of fanfic...I'm strange) and I just clicked "new" on notepad and I just started writing. Yeah, I know it makes weird references like Johnny KNOWS he is popular or that people write about him or that this is a story in itself, but I like it like that, maybe it IS all in Johnny's head.  
  
When I began, I didn't think I'd have any other characters in here besides Johnny, but hey...I started doing that weird thing that was in Finding Forester or some title like that "Dont think, just type" and it eventually turned into Nny/Mmy thing...but its not a slash deal or anything...I never wanted it to be Nny/Mmy thing...I love that shit, believe me I do, but I didnt want to do something like that. It'd be too typical.  
  
My story is typical, and it's not all too creative, but hey I think it's good, I actually do care what you people think sadly enough.  
  
I need a life  
  
Anyway, review if you want, Flames will be read, but probably not replied to. I'll just get all emo and cry and then listen to some Dashboard Confessional or whatever.  
  
Ha!  
  
Thanks  
  
Mileena 


End file.
